A World Within

by James Somers

  When Marissa and Captain Blackborne entered the establishment known as The Captain’s Cabin, they found it a very nicely decorated pub with an inn over the top. There were various sailing artifacts tastefully hung up for decoration. High-back wooden booths lined the walls and there was a central bar area where a huge barkeep stalked back and forth among the patrons, filling their glasses with various kinds of liquor.

  Musicians played peaceful melodies from a small stage set up in the far corner, and several waitresses moved about between the booths and tables, taking and delivering orders. As soon as they entered, Marissa had the distinct impression that everyone was looking them over. In a place like this, they probably did that to everyone who walked in. But she still felt like they had shown up at a private club without an invitation.

  Nathaniel’s eyes darted back and forth, searching every corner of the pub. He didn’t want to be here, but they needed weapons, and he knew just who to talk to about the problem. Everyone in The Captain’s Cabin dressed nicely, some even extravagantly, but Nathaniel Blackborne knew better. Despite the outward appearance of this place and its patrons, seediness ran just beneath the veneer.

  “What now?” Marissa asked.

  “Keep your eyes peeled,” he said, taking the lead. Captain Blackborne walked toward the bar and the man behind it. The barkeep was a hulking mass of a man dressed in black pants and a blue shirt with a black vest and black bow tie. He wore a stubbly shaved haircut and moved to intercept them, wiping the counter with a wet rag.

  Nathaniel slipped his hand into his pocket and returned with a gold coin he slid onto the counter in front of the goliath. “Is the Fiddler in?” Blackborne leaned on the brass rail running the length of the countertop.

  The man stopped wiping the countertop and placed his large hands palms down on the surface of the bar on either side of the coin. He glanced down at the money and then to Marissa and back to Nathaniel. The captain smiled charmingly to ill effect.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, black-buzzard,” the man said in a growling tone. His scowl set on the pirate captain like screws anchored to a piece of wood.

  “Can’t tell you how it warms my heart to see you again, Percival,” Nathaniel said sarcastically. The two men stared one another down for a moment longer before Percival lost his composure slightly, stifling a laugh.

  “You ole scalawag, Nathaniel,” Percival said with sudden endearment. He reached out a giant arm and met Blackborne’s hand in the air. They clasped forearms as apparent friends, exchanging genuine smiles.

  Nathaniel looked relieved by the exchange. “Well, I guess we don’t need this,” he said, referring to the gold coin.

  They unlocked forearms, but Percival beat Nathaniel to the coin, placing a quick palm over it. He slid it back to himself. “Oh, I’m still keeping the money,” he said. “I’m sure you owe it to me and more.”

  Nathaniel gave him an understanding look and said, “You’re probably right.”

  Marissa watched the curious exchange. She nudged Blackborne in the arm and said, “The sooner we’re equipped and leaving Corsica the better.”

  “Absolutely, Princess.”

  “A princess, eh?” Percival said. “You’ve taken up with better company these days, Nathaniel.”

  He rolled his eyes without Marissa noticing. “The Fiddler, Percival?”

  “Aye, just hang tight, and I’ll see if he’s taking visitors at the moment.”

  Nathaniel grabbed the big man’s arm before he turned. “Percival?” he whispered. “Has anyone been looking for me?”

  Percival leaned in and said, “With the price on your head, who hasn’t been looking for you?” Then he winked, turned, and walked down the bar. He filled one person’s order quickly and then disappeared through a plain looking door behind the bar.

  Marissa and Nathaniel turned to survey the people around them in the establishment. Several seedy looking individuals sitting at two tables near the door immediately drew their attention. Two other men had taken up a casual guard of the exit and all of them stared at Nathaniel Blackborne as though he were a big chunk of gold.

  “Bounty hunters?” Marissa whispered.

  “I told you this was a bad idea.”

  “What should we do now?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t—”

  WHAM!

  Blackborne and Marissa spun around at the noise behind them. Percival stood behind them at the bar with one hand palm down on the countertop. He had slapped the meaty slab down on the wood, hoping to startle them.

  Percival stifled a laugh. “He’ll see you now.”